


Tell Me What You Really Think

by ronans



Series: Prompts [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Mild Fluff, Post Season 4, mentions of domestic abuse, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 03:37:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2798111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronans/pseuds/ronans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>Prompt:</strong> different people wanting to have a relationship like Ian and Mickey, or wanting someone to love them like they do – <a href="http://southsidemilkovich.tumblr.com/post/105568769599/hey-i-have-a-prompt-of-different-people-wanting-to">Anon</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me What You Really Think

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone would like to give me a prompt, you can send an ask [here](http://southsidemilkovich.tumblr.com)

**Fiona**

‘Ian, you ready to leave?’ Fiona calls, adjusting her sports crop top and then dragging her hair up into a ponytail. She furrows her brows when he doesn’t answer. ‘Ian?’

She jogs down the stairs and into the kitchen, listening out for her brother.

‘ _Mick_ , I’ve gotta go.’

Fiona raises her eyebrows and freezes in the kitchen, eyes on Ian and Mickey in the front room. They’re standing pretty close together, with Mickey clinging loosely to the front of Ian’s work out shirt with his other hand on his cheek.

‘Stay a while. I’ll make you the pancakes this time.’

‘This is me getting my life back together, okay? Exercise… _helps_.’

Mickey exhales and rolls his eyes, stepping back a little but still keeping contact.

The fact that Mickey’s been beaten black and blue for Ian and fought back just as hard, and is now stood caressing Ian’s cheek really hits something inside her. The sheer dedication that must have taken and for them to end up here, still together… it leaves her nibbling her lip, stood in the doorway not wanting to interrupt.

‘Oh shit, hey, Fi,’ Ian says with a grin as he spots her. She instantly morphs her features into a sunny smile and advances forward into the living room. Mickey’s stepped back even further and looks a little embarrassed, like he knows the extent of what she saw, of him not wanting Ian out of his sight.

‘Heya. You wanna get your shoes on? Then we’ll go.’

Ian nods happily and looks back at Mickey, placing a short kiss on his mouth before running upstairs to fetch his sneakers. Mickey’s obviously avoiding eye contact with Fiona, awkwardly raking his nails up and down his arm, body language completely closed off. Fiona tips her head to the side and regards him. He’s so different to her previous perception of him, it’s still hard for her to get her head around it, even after these last few months.

‘You okay there?’ she can’t help but ask. He snaps his head up at the sound of her voice.

‘Uh, yeah, ‘m good.’ He nods slowly and scans the room with his eyes to avoid eye contact. Her and Mickey’s relationship is odd in that they should be close from the shit they’ve been through with someone they mutually love, but there’s this weird barrier that they haven’t broken down yet and it’s awkward sometimes. Fiona wishes it were different, wishes a fraction of the affection Mickey shows to Ian now could be spared for the rest of the Gallaghers. And it _is_ weird for her to admit that she just wants Mickey to feel like he belongs, to feel like he’s accepted.

Before she can say anything further to Mickey, Ian comes bounding back down the stairs, a grin still on his face. Fiona nods at Mickey as she passes him and leaves out the front door, waiting for Ian outside as he says goodbye to Mickey.

They don’t talk as they run, preferring to focus on their breathing and the rhythmic falls of their feet against the tarmac, but soon enough the Chicago summer gets to them and they mutually agree to take a break, slowing to a stop near the underbelly of the L tracks.

Fiona pants for a while, taking regular gulps from her water bottle before just choosing to stand still and clench her jaw, watching insects fly past and the scarce clouds in the sky. She can feel Ian looking at her but waits for him to initiate the conversation.

‘Grind your teeth any harder and you’ll have none left,’ he eventually says softly, poking his sister’s arm. ‘What’s up?’

She wonders whether she should bring up what’s on her mind, because she never knows what to say to Ian anymore, always being cautious and careful.

‘You and Mickey’re definitely serious then, huh?’

Ian snorts and kicks at the gravel beneath his feet. ‘You couldn’t tell already?’

Fiona rolls her eyes and rests her leg on the wall, stretching it. When she straightens out, she levels Ian with a serious stare and his smile becomes more reserved. ‘I never thought I’d say this about a Milkovich but… I think he’s good for you.’

Ian looks surprised, but he probably shouldn’t have been. Fiona’s been really trying with Mickey – along with her own road to recovery, she’s also had to juggle looking out for Ian, and hell has Mickey made that a shit load easier. She’s appreciated it, and although it still continues to shock her, she can’t help but warm to his support of her brother. The same feeling pools in her gut as when she’d seen them in the house earlier in the morning and she sighs.

‘Kinda makes me wish I had that, you know?’

Ian cocks his head and stares at Fiona like he’s trying to figure her out. They’ve always been close, obviously, with Fiona raising her siblings. But ever since Ian left, there’s been this distance between them – between all of them – that leaves them at a loss sometimes for how to interact with one another. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I never thought I could royally fuck up my love life so fantastically, but…’ she sighs and then sniffs, staring upwards as a train rumbles by. ‘Here we are.’ Her voice very nearly gets lost, but Ian picks it up and smiles sadly.

‘I still don’t exactly know what happened, but, I uh…’ Ian pauses to give her a more genuine smile, placing his hand on her upper arm. ‘I know you’ll figure it out.’

She lets out a chuckle and shakes her head. ‘Like I always do.’

Ian joins in and laughs. ‘Just, no more car-slash-drug dealers who cause you to put out in a drive thru, okay?’

‘Thankfully you’re not just describing one dude,’ Fiona mutters, another small laugh escaping her. She breathes out deeply and then shoots a happier, clearer look at her brother. ‘Any other Milkovich brothers available?’

Ian wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. ‘Don’t even go there. Mickey’s brand of Milkovich is one of a kind.’

‘That was so corny,’ Fiona titters, before dragging Ian away from leaning against the wall and starting their run back up.

**Lip**

With Ian up and somewhat running, Lip thinks it’s high time they got the pool set up and patched back up. The summer heat’s really getting to them and they need all the hands they can get to dole out tasks to, hence Mickey’s presence, but Lip figures he probably would’ve shown up anyway considering how he’s been attached to Ian’s hip since the whole coming out fiasco. He’s been a wage away from becoming Ian’s carer for a while now, and Lip’s not really sure why he’s stuck around for so long.

He wipes some sweat off his brow, drops the roll of tape he’d been holding onto the grass and looks over to his brother and… his brother’s _boyfriend_. That word and Mickey Milkovich still don’t gel together in Lip’s mind, but whatever. He starts thinking maybe he shouldn’t have employed Ian’s help because he and Mickey are basically pissing around, not doing much to help the cause; the cause being Lip. What really makes him snap is when Mickey gently, in the _fondest_ fucking gesture Lip’s ever seen from him, nudges Ian’s chin with his knuckles, letting out a small laugh.

‘It’s kinda strange, I guess, but I’ve never “affectionately” punched Amanda in the face,’ Lip comments, sauntering over to where they’re sat on the back steps.

‘You know I wasn’t fuckin’ punching him,’ Mickey growls, instantly becoming pissed off and defensive. Ian smiles lazily at Mickey’s profile and then turns to squint up at Lip.

‘What, you jealous?’ Ian asks, quite clearly teasingly, but it kicks something off inside him.

‘Fuck off.’ Ian’s face drops into a confused frown, but Lip’s quick to direct the subject to what he really came over for. ‘You two assholes just gonna keep up with the slacking, or do you actually want to chip the fuck in and help me out?’

‘It’s hot as balls, I don’t wanna move,’ Mickey grumbles, digging into his pocket to pull out his pack of cigarettes. Lip rolls his eyes skyward and scratches at his jaw.

‘Then why the fuck’re you here, huh?’

Mickey stares up at him and then shrugs like Lip’s usual attitude doesn’t faze him. ‘Kinda like this ginger kid that hangs around here sometimes.’

‘Kid?’ Ian’s voice is slightly disgusted, so Mickey sighs and corrects himself.

‘This ginger man… teenager… That sounds worse.’

‘Jesus, do you always waste this much time on trivial shit?’ Lip gripes, taking the opportunity to steal Mickey’s cigarette off him.

‘What the fuck?’ Lip smirks and then throws the stick back in his face, much to Mickey’s annoyance. ‘What was the fuckin’ point in that?’

He shrugs and then jabs a thumb over his shoulder towards the pool. ‘We need to get this shit sorted, ‘kay? Debbie’s day care kids aren’t gonna like being cooped up in the house with no air-con when she starts that back up again this weekend. Bit of hard labour won’t kill ya. You love building up muscle, right, Ian?’

‘Did that back when I was training to get into West Point, Lip,’ Ian murmurs without bite; he just sounds hollow and dead inside. Lip’s about to mutter a weak apology when Mickey comes to the rescue, all smiles and changing the subject. Lip would punch him if he wasn’t so sure it was actually cheering Ian up.

‘You see that stall Batty Sheila’s got set up outside her house?’

Ian glances at Mickey as he stands up and brushes off his loose shorts. ‘Nah. What’s she protesting this time?’

Mickey smirks and lights his slightly battered cigarette, taking a generous pull before chuckling out the smoke. ‘She’s fuckin’ _supporting_ public masturbation.’

‘No fucking way,’ Ian laughs, grinning widely and picking up an unattached pool component. The two then descend into this easy idle chatter that has Lip frowning again, but not exactly in a bad way. He’s just still genuinely baffled over the relationship and how fucking _well_ it seems to be going.

Over on Lip’s side of things… it hasn’t been going too fantastically. He’s getting bored of being the “kept boy”, kinda misses Mandy in some ways just because at least when things got rocky it was exciting. It’s weird, but he misses the conflict, the freedom, the… _not having to exclusively stick in in the ass_.

Ian seems fine with that, obviously, but for Lip it’s not keeping him interested.

And with Amanda it’s more distant. He knows he’s pretty much locked down, but he’s still not quite sure where he stands exactly with her and the relationship. Looking at Ian and Mickey, they’ve finally sorted it out and it looks _good_ , they look _happy_.

He stares at them for a while longer, pulling out his own cigarette and puffing on it regularly. Watching them interact has got all sorts of thoughts going on in his head, and he doesn’t much like it. It’s like he wants something more now, someone who he _knows_ genuinely cares about him. Amanda cares about his grades. Amanda cares about his well-being, sure. Amanda… could be that something more if he tried harder, put more effort in.

He sighs, a cloud of smoke leaving his nostrils. Why the fuck did Ian and Mickey have to start flaunting their newly happy (or should he say happ _ier_ ) relationship and open up this can of – what the fuck – relationship goals he’d had buried in his brain?

‘I will fucking kick you in the dick if you don’t get over here and help,’ Mickey yells at Lip, clearly pissed off at Lip’s hypocrisy.

He grins and throws his cigarette to the ground, taking his sweet time to join back in with the pool building.

**Mandy**

With her current comparison being Kenyatta, sure, anyone else’s relationship looked healthy and happy. But when she looks at Ian and Mickey and the shit they’ve been through… she can’t help but feel a little hopeful that things can get better.

Hell, from what she’s picked up, even Ian’s been on the receiving end of Mickey’s physically violent side. So, yeah, she can’t help but _hope_ it’ll get better for her.

It’s not like she likes staying in the situation she’s in. It’s fucking horrible. But it’s that mental block where she wants to leave herself, but can’t, because there’s no one there who’ll give her attention, who will tell her she’s not worthless, who will support her outside of this shit show. She can’t escape because she’s not _worth_ anything more; she’s got to settle for this. She’s never been fearful, she’s always fought back, but it’s fucking hard to do it when the person you’re fighting gives you _just enough_ devotion and care to keep you that little bit optimistic for more.

With Ian and Mickey it’s no question whether they care for each other. Not now, anyway. Mandy sees it. She tends to back off now, no longer craving Ian’s attention, or rather accepting that she doesn’t come first for him. But she still observes. It’s the way they touch or look at each other just casually, but like they’re just content to be in the same room together.

Mandy remembers that look she’d told Ian about a while back. She feels a little crazy that she didn’t spot it on her brother’s face earlier, maybe because he’d kept the affection buried for so long. She’s not an idiot. She knows her boyfriend doesn’t give her that look and that she’s just another notch on the bedpost for him, someone who has a home that he can crash in and a seemingly endless supply of free booze.

Even after she’s been beaten down both mentally and physically until she feels she can’t cope or that she’s done trying, there’s still that glimmer of hope that she _clings_ to, because it’s the last fucking thing that’s keeping her going. Maybe she’ll find what they have too.

**Carl**

‘Need you to take me out shooting,’ Carl says to Ian as soon as he drags his ass down from their shared room (well, it’s still their shared room on the rare days Ian isn’t staying at the Milkovich house).

Ian frowns and runs a hand through his hair, taking a glass out of the cabinet and filling it with cold water. ‘You really think that’s a good idea? And you’re asking me this _now_?’

Carl rolls his eyes. ‘If I’m gonna win Bonnie back, I need to get better at shooting. Duh.’

Ian cocks his head. ‘You don’t even know where she is. How’re you gonna win her back?’

‘If she _does_ come back, I need to be prepared!'

Ian blinks and then purses his lips. ‘So you want me to basically train you to successfully rob a store with a firearm to get a girl?’

He nods and pulls a Swiss army knife out of his pocket, playing around with it. ‘ _Basically_ , yes.’

And then suddenly he’s not holding the knife anymore and Ian’s letting out a long-suffering sigh. ‘You gotta stop taking my army shit, okay? Probably need to get rid of this…’

‘I’ll take it off your hands for five bucks.’

‘Yeah, sure, Carl, I’m gonna let you pay me just for you to steal the money back.’ Ian, infuriatingly, walks past his younger brother and ruffles his hair.

‘Dick.’ Ian smirks and refills his cup, the tap sputtering out the water rather than in an even flow. ‘So will you?’

‘Well, if we’re doing this, Mickey’s coming too. I don’t want to get shot by a seventh grader and only have to rely on said seventh grader to take me to the hospital.’

‘Why does Mickey always have to follow you around like some weak ass puppy now?’

‘He loves me,’ Ian says confidently, grinning and showing off his teeth.

_You’re not starting to like me or anything, are you? Like, fall in love or anything weird?_

Carl gives him an uncharacteristically feeble smile in return before he shakes his head. ‘Uh, cool, so you’ll do it?’

Ian chews on his bottom lip and then relents. ‘Okay, yeah, sure.’

‘Awesome.’

*

‘ _Got nothin’ better to do_. Sure,’ Ian mutters amusedly as the three of them walk down the street. ‘You can’t wait to shoot shit.’

Mickey scoffs. ‘Shut the fuck up, Gallagher. I got better things to do than hang out with you and your tween brother.’ Carl scowls at Mickey and then kicks him in the shin harshly. ‘Jesus Christ, the fuck was that for?’

‘Fuck you for callin’ me a tween. I’m no _tween_ ; I’ve probably dealt more coke than you, asshole.’

Ian raises his eyebrows and laughs. ‘Carl, throwing a bag of coke over your shoulder and giving it to the earth is not dealing.’

‘Whatever,’ Carl grumbles. Mickey chuckles and then points to an abandoned building in the near distance. Carl frowns and squints at where Mickey’s pointing. ‘What’s that?’

‘ _That_ is our shooting range.’

Needless to say, Carl looks unimpressed. Mickey and Ian speed up practically in sync, leaving Carl trailing behind feeling much less pumped than he did at the start of the day; the place looks like it’ll collapse if a feather were to land on the roof.

‘Up here,’ Ian says, gesturing for Carl to follow him inside the building and up the evidently unsafe stairway.

‘This is such a fucking dump.’

‘Wait a goddamn second. Fuck, are you always this fuckin’ whiny?’ Mickey grumbles, glaring at Carl. Once they get to the top, Carl sees a shot to hell target, more holes than actual material. Ian grins as Mickey pulls a handgun out of the backpack he’d brought with him. ‘Watch,’ Mickey vaguely orders. Carl elevates an eyebrow and crosses his arms, standing next to Ian as Mickey takes a deep breath.

Gunshots fill the air as Mickey fires the gun over and over again until the ammo runs out, each shot hitting the target either in the head or chest. There’s a brief silence among them as Mickey lowers the gun and turns around to face them, just about ready to instruct Carl on how to imitate him. Ian gets in there first though, grabbing Mickey’s face and planting a not exactly modest kiss on his lips.

Normally Carl would throw up or start questioning them endlessly, but he’s going to allow this one make out session because what Mickey just did was fucking badass.

‘ _Awesome_.’

Carl’s picked up on the fact that their relationship hasn’t always been exactly rosy – looking back on how Ian’s acted in the past knowing what he knows now, he’s sure of it. Plus, a South Side gay romance isn’t exactly going to produce a perfect fairy tale. But one thing’s for sure, if Carl can bag a chick someday who’ll kill something and then start making out with him, he can die fucking happy.

**Debbie**

Where Debbie _should_ really be happy for her brother, she’s instead glaring at how close he and Mickey are sitting together on the Gallagher couch, watching a movie.

‘ _God_ ,’ she finally grumbles. Both Ian and Fiona turn their heads in her direction while Mickey and Carl’s eyes stay glued to the screen, unbothered by the outburst.

‘What is it, Debs?’ Fiona asks, taking a sip from her beer bottle and scrunching her eyebrows together.

Debbie flings her head back against the armchair cushion and groans. ‘Why does Ian get to have that but _I_ don’t?’

‘Don’t worry. Ian used to like the older ones too, just get someone your own fuckin’ age,’ Mickey replies, still not looking away from the TV screen.

‘Okay, how do you even know about Matty?’ Debbie asks, narrowing her eyes at Mickey. He sighs and then lolls his head against the couch cushion to look over at her.

‘None of you Gallaghers keep your traps shut. ‘Course I fucking know about it.’

Debbie huffs out a sigh and crosses her arms. ‘Still not fair.’

Fiona hides her amused expression behind her drink and turns her eyes back to the TV screen. It’s quiet amongst them for a few minutes – an actual first – before Debbie lets out another grumble.

‘It’s so obvious they’re in love.’

She can see Mickey’s eyes widen, and he looks a little terrified at the verbal acknowledgement of his feelings. Ian sees it too and looks marginally disappointed, but quickly hides it.

‘What the fuck of it? Now shut the fuck up and watch the movie,’ Mickey eventually grunts.

Debbie’s pre-teen reaction then makes an appearance, her mouth dropping open in an excited grin. ‘That’s adorable.’

‘What’s up with the mood swings?’

Ian shakes his head and then rests it on Mickey’s shoulder, placing a small kiss there and only causing Debbie’s grin to widen. ‘Just ignore it.’

She then stares at them for a few more moments before tilting her head, expression contemplative. ‘You think if I up the price of my virginity online I’ll get a better chance of finding that kind of love?’

Fiona’s beer sprays far enough to coat the mirror on the other side of the room.


End file.
